She Only Wore a Shirt to the Funeral

Disclaimer: This is an original work of erotica. No characters were consciously modelled after any actual people, or publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. Nonetheless, anything which may be construed as such are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

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Foreword

A note on this story: Everything up until you see the line "My prayers weren't answered" actually happened, and yes she was pretty much dressed like the girl on the cover. Once I left the reception, I couldn't wait to get home and write a story about what could've happened. This story is also available as a free eBook on various sites. I do recommend looking it up, only because I managed to find cover art which showed EXACTLY how the woman at the funeral was dressed. Only major difference was her hair.

Chapter 1: The Funeral

Today, I just got back from attending my ex-girlfriend Lois's father's funeral. He had lived a full life, and as a Catholic he'd had a large family. Most of the women in his family were smoking hot, and there were several there in their 20s and 30s. He was German, and Hitler would have been proud of the dozen or so intensely fuckable blondes at the funeral. Some of them were related to him, others weren't, but each and every one of them caught my attention. While all of them were attractive, none of them made as much of an impression as Jade.

When I first saw her, I was seated next to my friend Fred in a pew near the back of the church. The pew in front of us had a few folks in it, but they were leaving one person's worth of space for someone who hadn't arrived yet. And then Jade showed up. She was another smoking hot Teutonic blonde, probably right around 30 years old, with what was either perfect light yellow blonde hair or an amazingly good dye job. Her hair was mostly straight, with a little bit of wave, and it came down to just below her collarbone. She had a slight frame, and what looked like a natural light tan acquired from laying out on the beach. My eyes first noticed that she wore a relatively conservative dress, buttoned up to the neckline, with buttons which stretched down and down. My eyes followed the line of buttons until they stopped - but the seam between the sides didn't stop. With a shock, I realized that her "dress" was nothing more than an extra-long button-up shirt, which was meant to be worn with a skirt or pants. It could've been modest with leggings or yoga pants, but her long, slender legs stuck out the bottom sexily. She looked like she was dressed for the bedroom, not for a funeral. She'd chosen to come to the funeral wearing no more than a shirt - and as she sat down, I caught a flash of black panties. My eyes went wide in disbelief as she sat down, the slits up the side revealing an amazing amount of her legs. I'm not sure if she noticed me noticing it, but even as the priest went to the altar in front of the congregation, I couldn't get it out of my head. Moments later, the actual funeral mass began.

Halfway through the service, Jade stood up and edged her way out of the pew, towards the aisle. I couldn't help but notice out of the corner of my eye as the hem of her shirt rode up a little, exposing just a glimpse of the bottom of her perfectly-formed ass. Her slender legs worked like a perfectly-tuned set of scissors as she turned and walked towards the back of the church. It a tremendous effort of will not to look at her ass as she walked away. If I were a Catholic, I'd already be thinking about scheduling my next confession.

The funeral continued, and Jade never did come back. The mass finished after about a half hour, in a cloud of incense. Moments later, the congregation stood up to leave the church and file out of the exit. It was then that I noticed, for the first time, that there was a â€˜cry room' at the back of the church, behind glass so that those inside could see and hear the service, but screaming children wouldn't be heard by the parishioners.

My attention was instantly drawn to the left side of the first pew in the cry room. I spotted Jade again, who was still wearing a shirt for a dress, and she had a small blonde boy in her lap. Her attention was distracted a little, and she didn't seem to notice that her legs were spread a bit. I tried not to be too obvious, but there was absolutely no way I could take my eyes off of her. My eyes were suddenly microscopes, trailing their way up her perfectly sculpted calves, past the dimples of her knees, and then tracing farther and farther up her inner thighs. My heart skipped a beat as I realized that I was looking at her panties, not just shadows. My cock stiffened instantly, and I prayed silently that she didn't notice me noticing.

Nope, my prayers weren't answered. I looked up farther and caught her brilliant blue eyes fixed on mine, with a knowing smirk adorning her lips. She brought her hand up and waved at me, winking seductively. Holy damn, she was hot. I'm more of a boob man than anything else, but this woman had legs to kill for.

The congregation started moving again, and part of me was reluctant to walk away. But I did so, giving her only a smile in return as I walked away.

After the funeral, our vehicles made a convoy to the graveside service. That service was much shorter, and consisted of just a few people saying a few kind words about the deceased, followed by workers lowering the casket into the open hole. The temperature was down to about 50 degrees, and there were considerably fewer people there than there had been at the service.

Chapter 2: The Reception

Once the service was over with, we convoyed off to the reception - which was held at the deceased's house. I'd first met Lois, my ex, over ten years ago, and we'd remained friends after figuring out that we weren't a good romantic match, so I'd been there a couple times a year ever since. I parked on the street outside of her house, then walked up the hill and made my way through the crowds into the house. While the house was large, it wasn't huge, and there were a lot of people there at the reception. I quickly realized there wasn't anything for me to help with, so I took a seat on a nearby couch, and Fred sat down next to me moments later.

About fifteen minutes later, something caught my attention from the corner of my eye. The shirt-dress girl was back, still holding the young boy she'd had in the cry room. Her eyes darted around the room, but then fixed on me. She smirked again, and kept walking to the kitchen, where the food for the reception was.

I rolled my eyes and retorted, "What are you, blind? The girl who thinks a shirt and a dress are the same thing just showed up."

Fred looked over towards the kitchen and didn't see anything - which would of course be the norm since the kitchen counter was in the way. I sighed and went back to our conversation, not really wanting to talk about it much further.

Inevitably, Fred got up to go to the bathroom, and I decided to get another plate of snacks. I was halfway through the kitchen when I felt a warm hand touch me at the crease of my arm, just opposite the elbow. "Hi," a sultry female voice said from my right.

I looked down, and quietly had a heart attack. The shirt-dress girl was there smiling up at me, without the little boy. I wasn't sure quite what to say, but she leaned into me for a second and said, "I'm going into the laundry room. Follow me a couple of minutes later."

She had a smile which I wasn't quite sure how to place, but I plucked a strawberry off of the fruit plate next to me and set it on top of my plate. "Sure," I said in a voice much more confident than I felt.

She let go of my hand and slipped over to the other side of the kitchen, which led to the laundry room. Lois's father had built a laundry room on the other side of the kitchen, apparently so that he could re-use the same water hookups. I glanced down at the time on my cellphone, then walked back towards the couch where Fred had already returned to.

I plopped down next to him and worked on my plate of snacks. I've always been a fast eater, but I tried to pace myself this time. I knew for a fact that I'd finish everything on the plate in about a minute if I didn't. "So, was that her?" Fred asked.

"Who?" I replied nervously.

"The girl talking to you. When she turned around, I saw what you meant about that dress. I think it really is just a shirt," he said.

I nodded. "Pretty sure it is."

Fred smirked. "So, did you get busted for checking her out?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Nah, she just wanted to know if I was part of the family," I lied. There was no sense in getting Fred worked up into "go get her!" mode, even though he was my best friend. I'd come clean with him about what went on once I found out; either way we'd end up high-5'ing or fist pounding over it. As professional gunslingers, we'd cultivated the "grown-up frat boys" look.

Yes, I said professional gunslingers - but not in the sense you probably took it. We both work at a gun shop together, one which specializes in selling to armchair amateur Special Ranger Recon Commando Seal types with more money than sense and a love for every tactical "go-fast" gadget known to mankind. We're both brown-haired and blue eyed white guys, although Fred was more tan because he went surfing once in a while. Fred was 5'10" and stocky, while I was a bit taller and thinner at 6'2". We both stayed in "movie military" shape and wore muscle shirts to work, frequently trading off which one of us was growing a beard and which was clean-shaven. We were as much models as salesmen, cashing in on what video games had been telling people that "real operators" looked like for the past few years. We never claimed to be military - but the idiots who bought from us because we looked like video game characters never really asked questions. And we knew the guns we sold inside and out anyway, which worked just fine on the more intelligent customers. Today, both of us were wearing black tactical pants. While Fred wore a somber charcoal gray shirt and a suit jacket, I was a bit more â€˜out there' and wore a black leather jacket over a skin-tight black muscle shirt. Sitting together, we'd been mistaken for brothers, Russian gangsters, and a pile of other random interesting choices. Thankfully, most of the folks here knew us, so we were just Brent and Fred.

I finished my plate quickly, then excused myself and made my way to the kitchen again while Fred was momentarily distracted by Lois's bombshell sister (I admit, I dated the ugly one in comparison) and I managed to slip through the laundry room door unnoticed, closing it behind me.

Chapter 3: The Laundry Room

"I was beginning to think you were chicken," said a sultry voice from behind me. I turned around slowly, trying to use the time to think of an appropriate response.

No appropriate response was possible. Jade was sitting on a chair by the washer, her legs crossed enticingly. She wore the same smirk she'd given me from the cry room, her hands folded on her lap in such a way as to pull the shirt down, covering her legs just a little bit more.

Her eyebrow shot up, and one of her fingers touched her upper lip, then ran down her chin. "Mmm. And what exactly do you want to talk about?" she asked.

I leaned against the wall, next to the door. "Well, you're the one who asked me in here, so I think that's for you to say. By the way, I'm Brent, and I'm not part of the family."

"Good to hear. My name is Jade, and I think I caught you looking up my dress."

I shrugged. "I don't think you can call that a dress, Jade. As far as I can tell, it's just a long button-up dress shirt. And you can't blame a guy for looking - it's a strange sight, and you're hard to ignore in it."

Jade giggled. "This is my a dress shirt, and that still has the word â€˜dress' in it. Don't you know it's rude to look up a girl's dress?" she pressed.

I rolled my eyes and stepped closer to her. "Afraid that doesn't count. I mean, look at this," I said as I gestured at the open slit in the front, below the lowest button. "I couldn't see your panties if you were wearing a dress. I'm sort of sorry that I looked in church, but you've got to be kidding me that you thought this was appropriate to wear."

Jade put her hand to her chest, like a delicate Southern flower who'd just been offended. "Why, I can't imagine why you'd call this inappropriate!" she said in a shocked tone. Her words were accompanied by her uncrossing her legs, switching which one was on top. The scene was very Basic Instinct.

I grinned. "I can imagine a lot reasons to call it inappropriate," I informed her. "Not the least of which is that you were wearing panties when you did that. Don't you know you're supposed to go commando?"

Jade's smirk turned into a grin. "Lock the door, stud. This is going to get fun."

I went back and pressed the lock on the door, and when I turned back around I saw that the top three buttons on Jade's shirt had come undone. I noticed for the first time that she was wearing a push-up bra, and her cleavage was beginning to show. "Does it still look like a shirt to you?" she asked.

I stepped towards her, nodding my head. "Yep."

She sighed and unfastened a couple more buttons, bringing the triangle of her exposed flesh even lower. The neck of her top was now down to the bottom of her bra, which I could now see was black and padded. Her breasts were round, and even with them covered, my cock was still rock-hard. Jade pointed at the protrusion in my pants.

"I think your other head considers my dress to be appropriate," she observed.

I smirked. "Appropriate for a strip club, perhaps," I countered.

Jade pushed herself up out of the chair in one fluid motion, then unsnapped another button and stepped up to me, her breasts just inches away from my chest. "I think this room is about to be a tiny strip club," she suggested.

I took in the view down her shirt and said, "Sounds good to me."

She grinned and circled around me, then pushed me towards the chair. "Then let's make it one. Have a seat."

I let myself flop backwards into the chair, which was rather comfy. The seat was well padded, and it had four legs and no armrests. Jade swayed her hips back and forth as she unfastened button after button. The triangle of her exposed flesh moved farther and farther down with each button, moving down past her navel, and then exposing her panty line. A few moments later, the shirt was completely open in front and she leaned backwards, encouraging it to slide free of her thighs and trail behind her as like a cape. In the meantime, I took advantage of the pose and noted that her pussy was already worked up; there was a small wet spot darkening the black panties just under her vagina. And more surprisingly, there was a C-section scar just above her panty line. I dismissed it as a concern; her body was absolutely smoldering hot, and I didn't give a rip about a scar or two.

Jade began walking her hips swaying and the shirt / dress / whatever trailing behind her as she approached me. Within seconds she was right there in front of me, spreading her legs across my lap to straddle me, her cleavage right in my face.

"Are we playing this by club rules, or make out rules?" I asked her.

Jade gave me a knowing smirk. "Club rules, for now. So, no hands," she said.

I looked down and admired the view; with the woman sitting in my lap, I had a perfect view of her breasts and her face. Her lips were a pinkish-red, the only really noticeable makeup which she wore.

She ground her pussy against me, and I could feel the heat she was keeping inside of her. My cock responded instantly, stiffening almost painfully underneath her. I thrust back a little, my head lined up with her pussy. Jade let out a breath and ground back, biting her lip just a little as she ground against me. I wanted to bring my arms up, but moments later she shrugged off her "dress", now sitting on me in nothing more than her bra and panties. She leaned back a little so that she could see me, and kept grinding on me. Her hands were exploring underneath my jacket at this point, pushing it out of the way as she enjoyed the view of the muscle shirt I had underneath.

"Damn," Jade exclaimed.

"Foam latex. It's all fake," I lied as her fingers traced the lines of my pecs.

"Bullshit," Jade retorted. She pushed at my jacket, trying to open it further, and I took the hint. I slid first one arm, then the other out of it. Jade looked admiringly from one side to the other. "You know those club rules we agreed to?" she asked.

I nodded, looking into her blue eyes expectantly.

She held onto my shoulders at arm's length as she looked down at my chest. "Forget â€˜em," she declared flatly.

I immediately brought my arms up and wrapped them around her slender waist. Jade shuddered at the feel of my skin on hers, and started yanking at my shirt. I pulled it up and off, baring my chest just before she pressed her waist against mine. I felt heat radiating from her bare midriff as she pressed herself against me, and I swear sparks of electricity shot between our bodies as we finally embraced. I wrapped my hands around her, running them up and down her back briefly before I settled on the clasp of her brassiere and unhooked it. The bra straps fell limply down, dangling uselessly as I ran my hands through the newly opened territory. I felt her bare back, and brought my hands around and forward, just brushing the sides of her tits as her bra slid away from my fingers.

Jade took a moment to lean back, and I took the top straps in my fingers, sliding them over her arms so that the under garment slid down her arms towards me. Jade smiled and tossed it away to the side, then put her hands back on my shoulders so that I could admire her breasts. There were a few stretch marks on them, and her aureole were large and pale pink, the size of silver dollars. They were actually lighter than her skin, and her nipples barely stuck out from her breasts.

Now it was my turn to say, "damn". Jade grinned and pressed herself against me, letting me savor the sensation of her body pressed against me. I wrapped my arm around her and pulled her to me, and the heat of our bodies rose instantaneously. I could still feel her pussy grinding against my crotch, protected by the only piece of clothing she was presently wearing. She bucked her hips, grinding against me firmly.

I explored down her back, my hand burrowing into her panties from behind to cradle her ass. Jade closed her eyes and threw her head back, grinding deliberately against me as she ground harder. She leaned back a little and slipped her fingers down the front of her panties, rubbing her clit enthusiastically. I loved the fact that she was getting off in my lap, but I was starting to get uncomfortable as my hard-on was grinding against her mound. But looking into her eyes as her breath started to come faster and faster, I decided to wait until she was done. It didn't take long: Jade brought up her other hand to her mouth and muffled herself as she came, her shriek vibrating against it and not traveling outside of the room. She blinked, her barely-focused eyes looking into mine as she stopped masturbating, taking her hand out of her panties.

I looked down at her soaked black panties, which were dampening my pants at this point. "Good thing this is the laundry room," I remarked.

Jade looked down, mortified that she'd left a mark on my pants. "Oh shit, I'm sorry," she said as she stood up.